


Got a Devil's Haircut in my Mind

by Fat_Bottomed_Flask



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: And over mouth, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley cuts his hair, Dicks are nice, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everyone has a dick, Fluff and Smut, Hair Kink, Hand Jobs, Hand on throat at one point, M/M, Oh yeah there's no plot, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), but it's cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23453671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fat_Bottomed_Flask/pseuds/Fat_Bottomed_Flask
Summary: The thought had no sooner passed through his mind when he heard the angel's footsteps at the entrance to the kitchen. Crowley turned around to see Aziraphale, dressed in a linen shirt, open at the neck, and khaki-coloured trousers. "Morning," he mumbled, pulling anxiously at his earlobe.Aziraphale stopped in the doorway, staring at him."Uh. Yeah. Anyway. Cut my hair."Crowley cuts his hair. Fun and games ensue.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 236





	Got a Devil's Haircut in my Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this [piece of artwork on Tumblr](https://smoosie.tumblr.com/post/613909554648973312/wait-but-what-would-aziraphale-feel-about-the?fbclid=IwAR2tq7481_tFyLpX6VbPIRyEHv7kRJ6Mv_0hMJ4WnwMs8uV6AkIVphk-C3Y) and couldn't let it go.
> 
> Title is from Devils Haircut, by Beck, because of course it is.

The cottage kitchen was already warm with early-morning summer sunshine when Crowley padded into it, wearing loose tracksuit bottoms and a faded t-shirt. He made his way over to the espresso machine and started attempting to wrangle coffee out of it. He hadn't been up long. There was no sign of Aziraphale, but then, he didn't sleep much. He was probably hunched over some book or other in his study.

The thought had no sooner passed through Crowley's mind when he heard the angel's footsteps at the entrance to the kitchen. Crowley turned to see Aziraphale, dressed in a linen shirt, open at the neck, and khaki-coloured trousers. "Morning," he mumbled, pulling anxiously at his earlobe.

Aziraphale stopped in the doorway, staring at him. 

"Uh. Yeah. Anyway. Cut my hair."

"So I see." Aziraphale took half a step forwards. "When did...?"

"I woke up and it was already hot and... it's been driving me crazy in the heat, 'specially in the garden, keeps getting in my face, and I just... had a moment of... well. Eh. I buzzed it all off. Just now.

Aziraphale's lips twitched. "Impulsive of you."

"Yeah." Crowley looked down at his feet. "Sorry. Do you hate it?"

"I've never seen it so short. You always kept some length, at the top, at least. Even when it wasn't really the fashion. I always rather assumed you liked it long."

"I do, mostly, it was... I should've asked. I dunno. It'll grow back. Can probably miracle it faster if—"

Aziraphale was closer now. He reached out with one hand. "May I?" he asked.

Crowley looked up. "Sure. Course."

Aziraphale reached out and gently ran the flat of his hand over Crowley's head. "Oh," he breathed. "It feels like velvet."

"It does?"

Aziraphale ran his hand backwards and forwards, making Crowley shiver. "Nicer than velvet. It's so soft."

Crowley breathed out. "You don't mind?"

"Oh, don't be silly, dear boy. It's your hair. You have to walk around with it on your head. As if I have any say in the matter."

"Yeah but... you do like it long."

Aziraphale let his hands fall to Crowley's shoulders. "It's not the hair I like, darling. It's you. Honestly, after all this time, are you still struggling with that?"

"Nnh, well, I dunno. You... you like pulling it."

"Mm. But..." the angel let one hand drift up to Crowley's neck and caught a few short strands firmly between his finger and thumb. He tugged.

The pin-sharp stab of pain made Crowley gasp. He flushed with heat. "Oh, fuck."

"See. There are still options. Or..." Aziraphale slid his other hand under the hem of Crowley's old t-shirt, caught some of the short strands of hair that dusted his chest and pulled. "There's always hair elsewhere."

"You bastard," hissed Crowley, in a voice that was all heat and no venom.

Aziraphale giggled, then he leaned forward, his breath ghosting Crowley's ear. "So I've been told," he whispered.

The hard kitchen counter pressed into Crowley's arse. A soft angel pressed against his stomach and groin. He had literally nowhere better to be and, besides, he couldn't imagine anywhere he'd rather be. Crowley had no idea how he'd managed to carve out his own little slice of heaven on Earth, but somehow, he had. He sighed, switched off the coffee machine with a thought, and kissed Aziraphale hard.

Aziraphale moaned into his mouth as his hands roved over Crowley's body, one exploring the swell of his arse, the other creeping back to the short hair on the back of his neck. "Come to bed with me," he murmured eventually, pulling back a little. "I want to run my hands all over your scalp."

"Mmhm. Do you?"

"Very much. And I'm sure we could find... some... position where that would be easy for me to do. Probably something that would be... mutually beneficial."

"Can't imagine," said Crowley, kissing Aziraphale's neck and pushing his erection, for once happily unconstrained by ridiculous jeans, into the angel's hip, "what you're suggesting."

"Such a shame," murmured Aziraphale, hips moving as he pressed against Crowley's thigh. "I thought imagination was one of your key strengths?"

"Nnnn, fuck." Crowley's eyes raked over Aziraphale's body. The broad shoulders. The gentle swell of his belly. "I could just..." he looked down.

"These tiles are hell on the knees. Come on." Aziraphale took his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen.

They stumbled into their bedroom, laughing and pulling at each other's clothing, which consisted of far fewer layers than usual. Crowley's t-shirt fell to the floor, the soft tracksuit bottoms a few seconds later. He worked on the buttons of Aziraphale's shirt, the slightly coarse texture of the linen lighting up his nerve endings, and kissed the angel's bared, golden-haired chest. Crowley pushed Aziraphale back onto the bed, crawling after him, dropping more kisses over his stomach and hips.

Aziraphale wriggled away, grabbing pillows and propping himself into a sitting position against the headboard. "Turn around," he said, gesturing to indicate that Crowley should sit between his thighs.

Crowley looked at him, puzzled. "Don't you want...?"

"Maybe later. For now, come here."

Crowley obeyed, settling himself so that he was pressed against the angel's belly. He could feel Aziraphale's erection, hard, pressing into his back. He pushed back against him, cat-like, and Aziraphale groaned and slid his hand around to cup his balls. Crowley let his head fall back.

"Ohh, fuck, that feels good."

Aziraphale hummed and pressed his lips against Crowley's newly-shorn hair, letting his fingers drift idly, agonisingly, over the length of his cock. "You're perfect," he said, his voice low and rumbly, the vibrations teasing Crowley's skin. Crowley's cock twitched, a bead of liquid forming at the tip.

"So're you." Crowley ran his hands over the outside of Aziraphale's thighs and calves, relishing the feel of solid muscle underneath the softness. He pressed his fingers in, felt Aziraphale gasp and push instinctively against him.

"Behave," Aziraphale whispered into his ear. "I'm going to stroke your beautiful cock with this hand," he turned his hand and ran the smooth backs of his manicured fingernails down Crowley's over-sensitive skin, "and your beautiful head with this hand." Crowley felt a broad palm slide over his scalp, fingers pressing lightly into his skin. "And you, are going, to _sit still_."

Crowley groaned. "Please."

Aziraphale's palm was warm and miraculously slick as he slid it oh-so-slowly over Crowley's cock. His other hand stroked his hair, every now and then catching a few of the short strands and tugging, generating tiny, bright stabs of sensation. 

Crowley lost himself for a few moments, his thigh muscles clenching and relaxing reflexively, a heavy heat building in his groin. He could feel Aziraphale breathing hard, hard cock pressed against Crowley's back, and he itched to move, slide against him, feel him lose control. 

It suddenly occurred to him that he'd been told to sit still, but there'd been nothing said about talking.

"Feels good, angel," he said, voice gravelly. "I bloody love your hands. I really wanna come, watch it shoot all over those clever, careful fingers." He felt Aziraphale gasp and grinned. "But," he continued, "maybe I'll draw it out a bit. Got my hands free. Could grab my cock just before I come. Stop myself." He made a circle out of his thumb and forefinger and gripped the base of his cock, using his other hand to still Aziraphale's movements. "Fuuuck. Yeah. Like that. So good to hover on the edge like that. I can feel you rubbing against me. Must be frustrating. Not. Quite. Enough."

Aziraphale groaned in his ear. "You're incorrigible."

"Mm. S'practically my job description." Crowley let go of his cock and Aziraphale's hand. The angel resumed his slick, sliding movements, a little slower than before. He ran the fingertips of his other hand over Crowley's scalp and then over the long line of his neck.

"Ohh fu...kk." Crowley stuttered and grabbed Aziraphale's hand again, stilling him. "Not yet."

Aziraphale moaned, his hips shifting helplessly against Crowley's weight. "You're driving me crazy," he said, his voice gruff, broken.

Crowley let go. "I'll bet you’re imagining my mouth on your cock right now. Soft and hot and wet. My tongue wrapped around you, and—" he was cut off as Aziraphale slid the palm of the hand that had been on his neck over his mouth.

"Be quiet, you fiend."

Crowley licked Aziraphale's palm, a bubble of laughter rippling through his chest which turned into a desperate groan as Aziraphale stroked him harder, twisting a little at the end of the stroke. Crowley let the tension build, felt the orgasm crash towards him and didn't try to stop it. Aziraphale's other hand moved away from his mouth and back up to his scalp, rubbing backwards and forwards over the short hair. Crowley came, thighs clenching, great, heavy wooshes of sensation pulsing through his body, watching in delight as come did, indeed, spill all over Aziraphale's fingers.

Aziraphale let go of him, sagging backwards, breathing hard. He brought his hand up to his mouth and slowly licked it clean. "Uh," he groaned. "I... oh fuck, Crowley."

Crowley twisted around onto his knees, still between Aziraphale's legs. "Hm," he said speculatively, examining the angel's very hard, twitching, almost purple cock. "Need some help with this?"

"Fuck, yes. Please."

Crowley stuck out his tongue and licked him from balls to tip. Aziraphale shuddered and stroked Crowey's head with both hands. "I'm not... I won't..."

Crowley swallowed him, feeling his cock nudge the back his throat. He put his hand over Aziraphale's where it rested on his scalp, encouraging him to use him.

It wasn't long before Aziraphale came, hard. Crowley swallowed and worked him through it before he eventually, somewhat reluctantly, pulled away.

They collapsed next to each other on the bed, Crowley curling into Aziraphale's side. The angel ran his fingers over his shorn hair again.

"I'm not sure I'm going to be able to stop doing this, you know," he said. "It feels delightful."

"Might be a bit weird if we go out."

"Mm. We could stay here."

Crowley laughed. "Until it grows back? Could take a while."

"Sounds jolly nice, actually. But you don't have to grow it back, unless you want to."

"Eh, I'll get cold ears in the autumn if I keep it like this."

"So we're staying in bed for," Aziraphale paused, blissed-out brain slower than usual. "Two or three months?"

"Mmhm."

"Fabulous," he said, with a happy sigh.


End file.
